Crooked
by DEATHmuse
Summary: It's up to Harry Potter to prove Severus Snape's innocence. But with a corrupt system and stubborn skeptics, will it be possible? Eventual HPSS. HPGW. Slash, mild?Het.
1. Prologue

Disclaimer: I own no Harry Potter characters, nor do I own any of the lyrics I use.

A/N: This story ignores the concept of horcruxes, and is not DH-compliant... so it's AU. I love my beta. Much thanks to Portishead for being the soundtrack to this story.

Prologue: "Western Eyes"

Even from the dark and hostile environment enclosed within the cool, damp walls, Severus Snape was still able to hear the joyous celebration that was occurring many feet above him. He would have contemplated the idea of joining in the merriment, if there were no risks involved. Unfortunately, that was not the case.

It was no matter, anyway. He hated crowds and frivolous parties. And he didn't arrive to Hogwarts for the feast. In fact, he hadn't even considered that anyone would be inside the castle, save for a few staff members. It was still winter vacation after all, and Minerva most likely had sent all students home due to the recent events, he thought.

But after making his way up the main steps, relieved to see that the ancient wards still allowed him to enter, Severus had heard music coming from the Great Hall. Cautiously, he had peered his head inside, and found many celebrants gathered for a feast. He recognized Daily Prophet journalists, politicians, renowned wizards and witches, and several members belonging to the Order of the Phoenix. The two long tables in the center were gone to accommodate dancing couples. Others were walking to and fro, laughing loudly, a drink in their hands. The rest of the party-gatherers were off to the sides, sitting in small, round tables and talking to one another. Some were grabbing food from silver plates that were floating throughout the Hall.

Everyone was smiling and laughing, seemingly having a marvelous time. However, Snape's attention turned to a morose-looking Harry Potter, who was leaning against a corner of a wall and eyeing the crowd, green eyes glinting with severity. The look on the boy's face was peculiar and looked foreign on his features.

Then again, how was Potter supposed to look after everything that had happened?

He continued staring until he thought he met Harry's gaze with his own. Then, deciding it would be most foolish to remain where he could be seen, Severus left the Hall to continue the "festivities" in the comfort of his own private chambers down in the dungeons.

He entered his rooms and muttered an incantation. A fire immediately burst and crackled in his fireplace, the only light in his private rooms. The flames flickered and danced, creating dark shadows across his walls and furniture. The light was dim, but Severus found comfort in the darkness.

He approached a large cabinet with windowed panels in the back of the living room, and opened it to reveal a long bottle of scotch. Severus thought it perfect for the rough night he was certain to endure. He opened it with ease, grabbed a wine glass off of a nook, and poured. He left the bottle open -- he would need more of it in due time -- and advanced to his large armchair in front of the fireplace, spelling his antique record player on as he walked. A woman's voice immediately began crooning.

Severus sat down, and waited.

The war was over. The Light had won. The entire wizarding world could breathe easily now because impending doom had vanished with just a stream of yellow light. Truly, these were days to remember.

At least, that was what Snape kept repeating to himself. However, being a Death-Eater (a former one, actually) and one of few remaining alive, there was still another impending doom that he was to worry about.

It would be kind if Fate allowed him a good night's sleep before the Ministry officials invaded his chambers and arrested him. It would be generous if he was quickly convicted of murder and avoided the tedious questioning by the Wizengamot. It would be fortunate if he received the Dementor's Kiss, rather than live a long and grueling life in the dingy cells of Azkaban, much like his former friend, Malfoy.

However, luck was never on his side.

If he knew his personal war would end this way, he would have finished it years ago. The man knew, though, that negative thoughts like these were pointless, so he focused on something else. He stared at the fire, the coal eyes void of emotion. Watched the fire dance, and dance, and dance. Yellow merging with orange, merging with white, merging, and dancing. Inferno waltz. He held the wine glass in his hand and brought it to his thin lips, feeling the liquid run and slide down his throat, though he didn't taste it -- There was no time for such pleasantries.

"_With western eyes and serpent's breath_," the woman sang in such a melancholic tone, perfect and fitting for his life_. "We lay our own conscience to rest..."_ Another long sip, hardly feeling the burn this time.

A knock echoed in his living room, and for a moment, Snape felt a mild sense of apprehension. He quickly dismissed it. He chose his fate, and now, he had to face the consequences, however mortal they may be. He rose and advanced toward the door, unaware that he was holding his breath.

He opened the door, and snorted at the anti-climactic turn of events. "Potter."

"Sir." The green eyes were filled with… something that Severus could not exactly pinpoint. For a moment, he thought Potter might hex him, but he realized the boy didn't have his wand in his hand. Curious.

"I... I tried to… but they.. They'll be here in... Sorry." His gaze fell to his shoes, but rose back to meet his eyes. "Can I come in?"

The man was taken aback, but recovered instantly. "I would think your presence is needed elsewhere in this castle."

"Please, professor."

He had no will to argue.

--

"Thank you."

"For what?" Severus asked from his armchair, still staring, fire still dancing. He took another sip of his scotch. He had offered some to Harry, for good measure, but he declined.

"Saving me. When I was cornered by all the Death-Eaters." The sincerity was clear in his voice. Still, the man refused to answer. A cold tension hung over their heads.

"Maybe they won't even come here," Potter suggested quietly after a moment, almost as if to reassure himself.

Snape merely snorted. "I've been to Spinner's End. The aurors destroyed most of my possessions. I've also no doubt that they're monitoring my wand." Harry flinched, but he continued. "Now that I'm at Hogwarts, they will know for sure that I've nowhere else to go."

"Where—"

Harry was cut off by Snape's cough, implying that he did not want to get into it. The younger man conceded, and more thick tension followed. Snape clenched his fists, growing furious at the ongoing silence. He expected a furious tantrum, a duel, an attack, _anything_. Not feigned civility. This entire act was asinine, and he was going to put a stop to it. "Why are you here, Potter?"

"I saw Dumbledore's memories," he murmured.

Snape gritted his teeth, finally turning to look at the boy before him. "Forget them."

"I..."

Snape rose then, black eyes vibrant with rage. It finally occurred to him that he was spending his last night of freedom with _Harry Potter_, the very reason why his life was being taken away in the first place. And the boy had just barged in here... for what? Gratitude? Appreciation? How dare he. How dare Potter steal his last moments. "Forget them," he repeated, evident loathing and frustration in every syllable he spoke. He stood there, chest heaving and face pale, watching him, watching Potter in his seat, who was staring back with that pained _something_ in his eyes.

The fire and shadows twirled between them.

"I won't let them take you, sir." It was said with such conviction and force that Severus almost believed it himself. "You've saved my life so many times..." He sighed and got up from the couch. He closed the distance and raised his chin to stare into the black. "And I… It's time I did the same."

The world seemed to stop turning. Everything froze, except the fire and the various emotions etched in their pupils.

"_With western eyes, and serpent's breath..._"

The door was suddenly blasted open, startling both men. A group of aurors barged in, and soon, six wands were being pointed at Severus. "Official orders," the biggest among the group shouted, cockney accent thick. "We've come to arrest Mr. Severus Snape." The auror grinned almost viciously.

Harry blanched at the words and shifted his eyes from his former professor to the group. "On what charges?" he asked weakly.

"Murder and treason," the auror responded. He took a few steps forward and lowered his wand involuntarily as he continued. "We received a report—" The big man then realized with whom he was speaking to, and his eyes widened. "Mr. Potter, it is an honor," he said, bowing low. "No one told us you were personally arresting 'im yourself!"

"No one's getting arrested!" Harry exclaimed. Snape noticed two aurors glancing at each other nervously. The big auror took a few more steps towards Harry and scratched his head. "Er, Mr. Potter, sir…"

Harry continued before the man could. "Look, I... I know what you're thinking, but you see... He's not really a Death-Eater, and I can prove to you that he was on the Light's side if you ju--"

"Potter. Stop. I will go willingly." It was said so quietly that Harry barely caught it.

"No, sir, trust me, I ca--"

A terse shake of the head. "It is futile."

"'A course it is," the auror said, and he swished his wand, conjuring a long, white thread of magic. Severus brought his hands forward and the thread spun itself tightly around the man's wrists.

"Where are you taking him?" Harry demanded to know as he watched three aurors walk behind Snape, trapping him in a circle. "To Azkaban, of course," a scrawny auror answered. Another wizard cracked a smile at the response.

Snape was unaffected. He merely closed his eyes, and followed behind the aurors in front of him. If he played his cards right, the Dementor's Kiss would only be a few hours away...

"I won't let this happen," he heard Potter say, the young man's words ringing and spinning in his mind, echoing and echoing before finally settling in the back of his head.

Hope was for Gryffindors, after all.

--

Harry watched the group disappear from the room. As soon as he was alone, he grunted and kicked the foot of the armchair. "Shit," he exhaled, as he slid a hand through his hair. He plopped down on Snape's chair, and rubbed his face with his hands, trying to see what he was going to do next. Snape had no faith in him, that was certain, but the man didn't deserve this. The memories he witnessed proved that. He would not die. He _refused_ to let the man die… but just how would he stop this?

Harry pondered his next moves while he stared into the fire, suddenly realizing that music was playing in the room.

"_They lay their own conscience to rest_," the woman sang, "_but then they lie, and then they dare to be hidden heroes, candidly_…"

The fire was almost hypnotizing, beckoning and calling. Yellow-orange siren. Harry sighed again.

"_Yes, I'm breaking at the scenes, just like you…_"

Breaking from the trance, Harry stood and headed towards the door. He turned around and glanced at the dancing flames once more.

He spelled it off and promptly left the room.


	2. Chapter 1: The Day After

A/N: I am foreseeing that this story will progress slowly. Also, there is no Snape in this chapter. I had to get this icky stuff out of the way first. It will pick up in the next chapter, I promise you. Trust me. I'm planning on taking you for a ride this entire story.

Chapter 1: The Day After

_If I don't wake up, I won't have to face it._

His reasoning seemed logical. So he kept his eyes closed and resumed his deep breathing. Almost instantly, he found himself teetering on the edge of consciousness. He just needed to relax a bit more to fall asleep again. He exhaled. Yes, that was it. He wanted sleep to overpower him. He wanted sleep to force him to forget about everyone. He wanted everything to wait until he spent a year or two in his subconscious abyss. Yes, maybe after twelve months, he would be able to handle the situation. Perhaps.

The sharp pang in his chest proved to deter him from his desired slumber, however. He exhaled, in frustration this time, at his failed attempts at finding some peace. He would have loved to stay wrapped in his comforter, hidden from the rest of the world. But he knew he had to face it. He couldn't hide forever.

Harry opened his eyes and felt realization hit him like a bucket of icy water.

_Moody's dead. Shackebolt is dead. Charlie is in the hospital. _

_Numerous are wounded and dead._

The pang grew to an ache that rapidly wrapped around Harry's torso to suck the energy out of him. The parasitic emotion clung to him harder until his breath became short and ragged. Harry shut his eyes tightly and held his breath until the pain passed.

Guilt. He recognized the feeling.

The pain subsided as quickly as it came. Once he deemed it safe to breathe again, Harry sat up on his bed and rubbed his eyes vigorously before retrieving his glasses from the nightstand. He was in his room at Grimmauld Place, he realized. The room was untidy as always, with Harry's clothes strewn about the floor. A pleasant aroma was wafting in the room, telling Harry that he wasn't alone. _Of course_, he thought. It had slipped his mind for a moment that he had invited the Weasleys to his home for the weekend. The smell was probably Mrs. Weasley's doing. Sighing, Harry flung himself from the bed and padded to the bathroom for a shower.

Honestly, he had wanted to be alone for the remainder of his winter vacation. After everything that had happened, he just needed space to mourn and grieve the losses. McGonogall, however, had insisted that Lupin and Tonks keep him company. Just in case, she had said. Just in case… It wasn't as if Harry was going to invite any Death-Eaters for a post-war luncheon. Still, he supposed it was unproductive to wallow in misery, and McGonogall had most likely guessed what his intentions were.

It didn't help that everyone was recuperating well. At least, they were pretending to, which slightly agitated Harry. It added insult to injury in his opinion, to simply ignore all the tragic events that had occurred in the past two weeks. They knew it was his fault. They fought with him, for him, because of him. And, how many sacrificed themselves? Yet, he was being treated like a hero. It was unnecessary.

After getting ready for the day, Harry walked downstairs to eat his breakfast. He pushed open the kitchen door and found Mrs. Weasley, Remus, and Tonks conversing in hushed tones over their cups of tea. On the other side of the table, Ginny, Ron, and Hermione were having their own little chat. Remus was the first to notice his presence in the room. His eyes widened slightly and he exclaimed rather loudly, "Harry!" Everyone turned around and beamed at him, save for Mrs. Weasley who had quickly stood from her seat to retrieve Harry's breakfast for him. It was a bit disturbing. He almost rolled his eyes at how poorly his friends hid the fact that they were just talking about him.

Ignoring it for now, Harry merely smiled and greeted everyone. "Sleep well?" Remus asked.

"Yes," Harry answered. He would have reciprocated the inquiry, but the large bags under the werewolf's eyes gave him the answer. In fact, Remus looked more than just tired. He looked exhausted. His eyes were bloodshot, and his hair was tousled and unkempt. It was a stark contrast to his wife beside him, who appeared exuberant with her bright pink hair and glowing complexion. Then again, the baby was due in a few months...

"Where is everyone?" Harry asked, finally noticing that more than half of the Weasley family was missing.

"Oh, Arthur and the boys went to St. Mungo's to check up on Charlie," Mrs. Weasley replied. She walked around the wooden table and set Harry's plate next to Ginny, who was seated opposite Ron and Hermione. She turned around and smiled at Harry. "They'll be back in a few hours. Now, do eat your breakfast, dearie, before it gets cold." Her eyes were warm, genuine, and not at all accusing, which made guilt begin to creep along Harry's spine again. He muttered his appreciation and sat down.

"Morning," he said to his friends. Ginny leaned over as he turned in her direction and he gave her a chaste kiss on the lips. He turned in time to see Hermione's smile and Ron's repulsed face. "Any news?" Harry asked, focusing on something else to counter the blush that was beginning to show on his face.

Hermione shook her head. "It's Sunday, remember? The post usually arrives a bit late." She pushed her empty plate aside and continued. "It should arrive any time now. In any case, the articles in _The Daily Prophet_ will most likely revolve around the banquet last night."

Harry had completely forgotten that he even attended that, and it felt he was forgetting something else, as well...

"Well, last night was a lot of fun, wasn't it?" Ron chided in as he brought his hands to the back of his head. "I'm bloody exhausted, but I had a hell of a good time."

Ginny smirked and stared at her older brother. "Of course you're exhausted. You danced the night away!" Everyone burst into laughter while Ron flushed a red that matched his hair color. Ginny continued after taking a spoonful of porridge. "I told mum to keep the cider away, but she didn't listen. Honestly--"

"Ginny!" Mrs. Weasley scolded, much to Remus' amusement. Tonks grinned.

"Ginny's got a point though, Molly," Tonks said, turning to Hermione and winking. "Ron's definitely got the moves."

Ron, now embarrassed beyond belief, groaned loudly. He slammed his head on the table. "Can we stop now?" he asked through everyone's chuckles. He raised his head and protested more. "It's not like my making a fool of myself was the highlight of the night."

Harry, who had been eating his porridge diligently, had a sudden rush of emotions surge through his head as he remembered.

Everything.

Everyone.

_Snape._

He dropped his spoon in shock, the metal clanging against the plate. Before anyone could question his action, numerous owls flew in through the open doorway. Letters and copies of _The Daily Prophet_ were swiftly thrown down on the table. The distribution of the mail was chaotic, however. The owls screeched as they crashed into each other, and it took a good two minutes for all of them to safely retreat out of the kitchen and ascend to the attic window.

Hermione, Ginny, and Ron were opening the official Hogwarts letter that they all received. Harry, however, grabbed the newspaper and stared at the front page, agape.

There he was. Occupying more than half the page was a large picture of Severus Snape holding his assigned Azkaban cell number. Snape was glaring at Harry, a scowl fixed on his sallow face. He then shifted his gaze, left first, then right, and went back to glaring. The large headline read: SEVERUS SNAPE SENT TO AZKABAN

Harry skimmed through the surprisingly long article but quickly stopped at the first mention of his name. "Shite," he muttered. An uneasy feeling settled into the pit of his stomach. Grimacing, he brought the newspaper down on the table with a slap and found pairs of eyes looking at him questioningly. "Snape," he stated.

"Snape was captured!" Tonks exclaimed. She, too, was reading the article.

"It's about time," Ginny added excitedly.

"Harry," Remus started as he turned the page. "Why didn't you tell us you--"

"I didn't arrest him!" Harry immediately yelled, wincing inwardly at the harsh tone of his voice. "Look, it says that I..."

"We're not condemning you, Harry," Hermione reassured him as she began to pick up her newspaper. "In fact, I think that's the best news we've had so far." She then added in a low tone, "And now that he's in Azkaban, you won't be able to uh..."

"Oh," Harry immediately caught on. For the past year, he had spoken of Snape with such utter loathing, vowing that one day, they would meet again and Harry would avenge his mentor's death. His ranting had frequently upset Hermione, so this piece of news was a probable relief.

"Greasy git deserves to be locked up in prison," Ron commented, "I still can't believe he was running around free for an entire bloody year!" He then turned to Tonks and grinned. "Tonks, you can't get us into Azkaban, could you? I'd love to see his face, now that I can call him a greasy git without any points being taken away!"

"Ron!" Hermione and the Weasley mother shouted in unison, but Tonks laughed.

"Well, I guess I could pull a few strings..."

"Tonks!" Remus scolded as the Metamorphmagus snickered behind her hand.

Harry's fury was building up to that point, offended at how lightly all of them were taking the situation. He was so angry that he didn't realize that words were slipping past his lips. "Snape's innocent."

The loud chatter was suspended instantly. All heads turned to look at Harry, each expression incredulous. Mrs. Weasley broke the silence first. "Harry, dear, are you feeling ill?"

"Harry, what are you talking about?" Ron's eyes were wide saucers. "He killed -- no, _murdered_ Dumbledore! You were the one saying he should be arrested and taken to Azkaban!"

Harry's face reddened. He remembered saying that, oh yes. He remembered it with perfect clarity. "Look, I know what I said, but..." He sighed and looked down at his cold porridge, unsure of how to explain or where to begin. It took him a week to accept that were it not for Snape, the final battle would have been in Voldemort's favor.

To tell the truth, he had planned on not telling anyone that Snape saved him. Not only because no one would believe him, but he would have to admit to straying from the Order's original battle plan. If he hadn't left his post and waited for his signal like he should have, then he wouldn't have been trapped by Death-Eaters. Snape wouldn't have had the opportunity to save him, and Charlie wouldn't be at St. Mungo's...

Something soft brushed against his hand and he looked to see Ginny's hand softly rubbing his. "Are you okay?" She murmured, tilting her head and locking eyes with him. He nodded and slid his hand from under hers to grab his spoon and resume his breakfast.

Hermione, the first to recognize the awkward silence that befell the room, cleared her throat and opened her Hogwarts letter again. "Well, we have a month off of school."

"What?" Harry and the adults asked altogether.

"Well, they certainly can't teach with the state the castle is in," Ginny explained. "Plus, McGonogall says they have to strengthen the magical wards, and..." the redhead skimmed through her letter. "That we should take the time off to spend it with our families."

Mrs. Weasley nodded and unconsciously began to pick up the empty plates off of the table. Harry's chest ached.

"Well, at least I get to review more for the NEWT exams. Oh, what now, Ron? You didn't think I'd let you spend the vacation just lying about, did you?" She stood from the table and looked at Harry and Ron sternly. "These tests determine our future! Or did you forget that?"

"You sigh and you pay for it the rest of the day," Ron muttered under his breath as he rose from his chair as well. Harry cracked a smile, but the twang inside him was irritating him. Here he was, free and content, and somewhere out there, an innocent man was locked up in a cell.

_Because of me._

Last night's memories were swirling in his head. He told Snape that he would get him out. He promised. And though Snape would be resistant to the offer, Harry knew the man needed it. All Harry needed now was a way to speak to the man about how they were going to get him out of Azkaban.

Harry walked behind his girlfriend and turned to glance at Remus and his wife. He was still reading the article, but Tonks had caught his eye. She grinned and winked, and Harry instantly knew what his next move was.

Ron was right. If anyone could get Harry into Azkaban, it'd be an auror.

With hope now flaring inside him, Harry eagerly trotted upstairs to join his friends. Yes, he would make sure Snape would get the recognition he deserves.

Even if it meant breaking a few rules.


	3. Chapter 2: Azkaban

Chapter 2: Azkaban

"So what you're saying," Tonks said as she twisted the red mug in her hands, "is that, you want to go to Azkaban to visit Snape."

Harry nodded. "Just to get some facts straight," he clarified. He grabbed his tall glass of pumpkin juice and drank as he waited for Tonks to respond.

The woman chuckled into her mug. "I didn't think anyone was seriously considering Ron's plan." She remained silent and for a moment, Harry was convinced that she would refuse in taking part of his plan. Hell, the plan itself was insane, he realized, which was why he proposed it when no one was around. Remus had planned to leave in the early breakfast hour to aid McGonogall and help with the physical and magical renovations. Harry knew the werewolf would have definitely rejected his proposition, so he waited until Remus was gone to head downstairs for breakfast.

Ron might have supported his plan, but Hermione would have talked sense into Tonks. In any case, even if Hermione did approve, she would want to accompany him, along with Ron. And Harry needed to be alone for this, so it was fortunate that they weren't at Grimmauld Place. Yet. They would come in due time, which was why he ambushed Tonks quickly. He needed an answer _now_, before anyone found out.

He carefully observed Tonks' current mannerisms. Her eyes were focused on a certain area of the ceiling. Two of her black, chipped nail-polished fingers were tapping feverishly on the mug she was holding with two hands.

She couldn't say no. It would go against her instincts. Tonks had a good heart and was devoted to the people she loved. Noble traits, but Harry knew her better than that, or so he liked to think. She had a wild side to her; she craved danger. It was the Black blood in her. It explained, after all, why she chose the career path of an Auror, and one of the many reasons why she fell for Remus.

He knew he had her when her lips suddenly formed a small smirk.

Tonks placed her mug down on the table and stood, placing her hands on her hips. "Okay, Harry Potter. I accept your challenge." She then put a finger to her lips and winked. "But we can't tell Remus, okay? He'll murder me if he knew what I was doing."

Harry couldn't help smiling. "Don't you mean we?"

Tonks shook her head. "Oh, no. He'd think it was all _my_ idea." She turned around, approached a kitchen cabinet and began rummaging through the various items. "Now, listen... It'd be much easier if we waited a day. Getting permission for you wouldn't be such a hassle..."

He figured she'd say that, but he had the perfect response. "Well, where's the fun in that?"

She turned to look at Harry. Her eyes that day were an icy blue, and were presently shimmering with glee. "Exactly." She closed the cabinet and approached the table again, setting a container of toothpicks down. She grabbed two out of the plastic tube and held one up for Harry to see.

"I'm giving you an hour. One hour," she instructed clearly. She set the toothpick down again before continuing. "The security's pretty loose compared to the Dementors, but you still have to stay on your toes. They're not expecting any visitors today, so just stick to the shadows and you'll be fine."

"Stick to the shadows," Harry repeated. "Got it."

Tonks grinned. "You should go get your invisibility cloak. They won't be able to detect that." Harry complied and ran upstairs, but not before seeing Tonks pick up a toothpick and exclaiming, "Alright, let's see if I remember how to do this..."

When Harry returned, Tonks was already finished turning the toothpicks into portkeys. She passed them to Harry. "That one there will leave in two minutes, and the other one will activate an hour later."

Harry nodded. "Thanks, Tonks... I promise I won't get caught."

"Yeah, you shouldn't! For both of our sakes. And leave the area you land in as soon as you get there. Some parts of the wards are still weak, but they'll definitely detect the portkey magic, even if it is just a pulse. Oh! And," she added as Harry threw the cloak on himself. "Whatever you do, don't use your wand! You'll blow your cover for sure. Do you know Snape's cell number?"

"Yup," Harry answered under his cloak. "Thanks again."

Tonks smirked. "Yeah, yeah. Good luck."

And with that, Harry felt the familiar tugging feeling of the portkey whisk him away.

--

Harry lost his balance when he landed, but he still managed to stay on his feet. Remembering Tonks' advice, he quickly and quietly shuffled to the opposite side of the long, dark corridor.

He shivered and struggled to contain the teeth chattering in his mouth. Despite the absence of Dementors, the prison was abnormally cold. It was also dark, even with the flaming torches on the walls, and he could hear water dripping from each direction. He looked around, noting that the entire place felt hostile and unfriendly.

He proceeded through the hallway stealthily, sticking to the shadows of the long corridor. He peered into cells when he passed them. Some were empty, but in other cases, he'd find a man or woman huddled in a corner of their cell. In Cell 3556, Harry found a tall, ragged-looking man pacing back and forth, mumbling his incoherent thoughts aloud. In the cell next to his, there was a woman leaning against a stone wall and sobbing quietly.

Harry was starting to feel uncomfortable and he was beginning to see exactly why his friends would have rejected his idea. The place was haunting.

He continued down the corridor. The path spiraled upwards some time ago, so Harry assumed that he was on the next floor. He was close.

He was caught off-guard, however, when a frail arm from a cell jutted out and blocked his path. He gasped, and then, quickly realizing that he slipped, simply stopped breathing altogether. The woman behind the bars stared blankly in his direction, a smile slowly forming on her face. "Magic," she hissed. "I sense magic. Beautiful, powerful magic, yes... I sense it. It's here! Magic is here..."

She could feel his presence! If she alerted the guards, they would surely find him. Panicking, Harry quickly backed away from the woman and began inching his way closer to the opposite side of the hall. He then heard footsteps echoing in the corridor from his right, growing louder and louder as they approached. Harry clamped a hand around his mouth and nose to stifle his breathing, and stiffened as the Auror passed him by.

"Magic," the woman hissed again. The Auror gave her a passing look. "I'm on it," he grumbled, more to himself than her. He headed in the direction where Harry came from, and when his shadow disappeared, Harry breathed a sigh of relief.

The bars of the cell behind him were uncomfortably stabbing him in the back, so Harry turned around.

The gasp that he let out that time was louder.

There he was.

He was sitting at the far-left corner of his cell space. It was dark, but the profile of the man left no doubt in Harry's man that it was Snape. Harry squinted his eyes and noticed that Snape's eyes were closed. Was he asleep?

It was no matter, in either case. Harry knelt down in front of the bars and looked to-and-fro before softly murmuring, "Sir."

There was no response, but after a long moment, Snape languidly opened his eyes and scowled. "Potter."

"I thought you were asleep."

"I was attempting it. Why are you here?" The response was gruff.

Harry lifted the bottom half of his cloak and pulled it over his face, revealing himself to the man. The top of his head was still covered, so Harry grabbed the sides of his invisibility cloak and grasped two steel bars in front of him, making him visible only to Snape. "I just... Well, I promised I'd get you out of here, didn't I?"

Snape was staring at the wall across from his position. "Detection charms, Potter. I'm surprised you've made it this far. Then again, the guards here are rather incompetent."

"Actually, sir," Harry began, "The Aurors... don't really know I'm here." He didn't know why he felt so nervous. Well, he should feel anxious, Harry supposed. He was breaking a handful of Ministry rules, after all. But being chastised by Ministry officials wasn't as nerve-wracking as standing (or kneeling in his case) before his former hated professor. His new target would be harder to break through than Tonks, that was certain. Even if Snape was behind bars and in dirty rags, he still had an air about him that left Harry feeling apprehensive. His black eyes were still cold, his face still fixed in a scowl, his hair still greasy and unwashed. Snape had large bags under his eyes though, Harry noticed. And his face seemed paler than usual.

"I assumed so. You never did like to follow orders. Just like your father."

Harry had to resist the strong urge to roll his eyes. He had almost forgotten with whom he was dealing. The memories he had witnessed certainly didn't change the fact that the man he was speaking with was a cruel and bitter one, and he would say anything to aggravate Harry. Sighing in frustration, Harry decided to try another approach.

"Look," he said through gritted teeth. "We both know you were on the Light's side." He waited to see if Snape would interrupt, and continued when he didn't. "And I know you don't like me any more than I like you."

Snape snorted.

"But... " Harry continued, watching the man drill holes into the wall with his glare. "I owe you."

"You don't owe me anything." Snape turned and finally met Harry's stare.

"I do," Harry said. "We all do. We wouldn't have won if it wasn't for you."

The two of them stayed in silence for a minute. Snape had shifted his gaze to the floor, and seemed to be contemplating everything that had just occurred. Harry opened his mouth to further convince Severus that his intentions were sincere, but Snape spoke first.

"Why are you doing this, Potter?"

"I..."

Various emotions surged through Harry's blood at that moment. Anger, gratitude, resentment, bitterness, appreciation, relief... All towards the man.

_And suddenly, he was back in the forest again, enclosed in a circle of Death-Eaters. Harry was shivering, ashamed of being caught so easily. He was stupid for giving up the plan, foolish for not following orders. The silver masks were taunting him and he watched in horror as the figure in front of him took off their mask. Bellatrix laughed hysterically, loudly, the shrill tones echoing in his ears..._

_And then he saw the malice in her eyes disappear. Her laughter was suspended and he saw her topple backwards as the green light hit her in the chest. The rest of the Death-Eaters retreated from their stances, some Apparating out of the area, others physically fleeing, afraid that they would be blamed for her death. One, Harry saw, had the gall to swipe Bellatrix' wand from her fingers before they left. Then, realizing that he had a chance to escape, Harry swerved around, and gaped as he saw Snape staring back at him, staring with such ferocity, it scared the hell out of him, and then the man turned and walked away, leaving Harry alone, but then he heard the screams of agony, and..._

"I don't need help."

Snape's statement tugged Harry away from his thoughts. Yes, best not to think about it all. He couldn't keep reliving it…

He shivered involuntarily and focused on the task at hand. "So," Harry started, "You think you can convince the Wizengamot of your innocence?"

Harry thought he saw his former professor smirk. "No," he responded. "I cannot. Though that fact would hardly matter, seeing as there won't be a trial. Surely you read about it?"

Harry's eyes widened. "No, they forgot to mention that," he said, anger boiling inside him. "I didn't read the entire article, anyway. It was a load of rubbish. In any case, sir, I won't let you stay here. I'll get a hearing approved and you'll be out of here in no time."

Snape locked eyes with Harry again. "I said I didn't need your help!"

"Yes, you do!" Harry exclaimed, having trouble to keep his voice in such a low tone. "You can't possibly spend the rest of your life in Azkaban! You don't deserve it."

"Enough!" Snape attempted to stand, winced, and then compromised to giving Harry a very scathing look. "I don't need your help, Potter. There's nothing left for me out there, so I might as well stay here where I won't be hounded every bloody day by wizards and witches who think I'm a traitor!"

"Whom are you talking to, 4113?" A voice to Harry's left asked. Harry froze instantly.

The woman on the opposite side began to yell again. "Do you feel the magic? Yes… The magic is here, it's there, I feel it! Magic…"

Footsteps swiftly approached. "Keep calm, will ya? There's no magic, I just checked! And 4113, here, is still new, so the wards haven't dimmed his magic yet. Jeez…" A large clanging of metal was heard, and the woman screamed. The man then stepped towards Snape's cell and let out a deep chuckle, right beside Harry.

Harry gripped the cell bars tighter and hoped that the guard wouldn't bump into him. He was too close for Harry to back away without being detected. Plus, his front side was still revealed to Snape, and it wouldn't do for the guard to see a conspicuous ripple break through the air.

He stayed still and waited.

"You know, most prisoners last two weeks before they start creating invisible friends," the Auror chuckled again. "So what's its name, eh? Female? Male? Creature? Come on, I'm all ears!" The man continued to laugh.

Snape merely glared at the Auror. "Food," he demanded.

The guard's laughter slowly died down. "Hey now, what did we say? If you want some food, you're going to have to crawl over here and get it from the other side. Yeah, 4113. You're going to have to touch the bars, I'm afraid." The man placed his hands on the mentioned bars. "But don't worry. Your friend will be there for support!" The guard howled with laughter and walked away, miraculously missing Harry by a foot.

When the footsteps could no longer be heard, Harry spoke. "Looks like you'll be mistreated here, too. At least out there you can feed yourself."

Snape stayed quiet. Then, he softly sighed. "If you do manage to free me, will you promise to never bother me again?"

"Promise."

The man sighed again, pinching the bridge of his nose as he did so. "Do your worst," he said with reluctance.

Harry grinned despite himself. "Brilliant," he remarked, and then looked at his watch. "And with a few minutes to spare." He then glanced back at Snape, who was staring at the floor. "I'm getting you out of here," Harry reassured him.

Snape raised his hand and dismissed him without another word. Harry rose from the floor then, covering his face and body again with his cloak. He stood there, observing Snape for a while. The man had closed his eyes and seemed to be attempting to sleep once more. He looked frail in those moments, and Harry felt the cold prickly sensation of guilt slither around his body like a snake.

Fortunately, he didn't have time to dwell on it. He felt the portkey in his pocket activate, and in a blink of an eye, he was back in the comfort of his empty kitchen at Grimmauld Place.

--

A/N: Thanks for the reviews I've gotten so far. I'm glad people out there are excited for this story as I am -- 'Cause trust me. I'm stoked.


	4. Chapter 3: Acts of Impulse

**Author's Note:** Um. Hi. Remember me? ...Yeah. Work in Progress. Major. Work in Progress. This is unbeta-ed. I need one because there's an actual story behind this and I _know_ I'm going to screw up canon history along the way. Interested?

This chapter is probably crappy. I'm sorry. It was written a year ago. I'll stop talking before you murder me.

--

Chapter 3: Acts of Impulse

Harry knew it would only be a matter of time before someone found out about his impromptu visit to Azkaban.

He just didn't assume it would take a mere day for it to be discovered.

He was on the top of the stairwell when he heard a noise coming from the drawing room, which was quickly followed by muffled chattering. The drawing room door was then swung open and Hermione walked out hurriedly with Ron and Ginny just behind her. Harry opened his mouth to greet them, but once Hermione caught his eye, she ran forward and yelled, "Harry!"

She sounded a bit angry, Harry realized, but didn't think much of it at the moment. "Er, good morning?"

"Are you all right?" Hermione asked anxiously. When Harry nodded slowly, she sighed and wrapped her arms around him. "What on earth were you thinking, Harry?" she asked once she let go. "Going to Azkaban, I mean? I thought this was all over!"

Harry's eyes widened. "What... " he swallowed and glanced at Ron and Ginny. "How do you..."

"It's in the paper, Harry," Ginny responded. "Ron and I were rather amused by it all, but Hermione was insisting that you were probably traumatized by what you saw or some other rubbish." She rolled her eyes and grinned. "We Flooed as soon as we read the article."

"There's an _article?_" Harry's eyebrows shot up to his forehead. The three nodded and Harry groaned in frustration. "No one was supposed to know!"

Ron cast him an incredulous look. "You weren't going to tell us, Harry?"

Hermione was also glaring at Harry so he shook his head furiously. "No, no!" he said, putting his hands in front of him defensively. "Of course I was going to tell you! I meant I didn't want the Ministry, or anyone else knowing that Tonks--"

"Tonks?" Hermione gasped.

"Tonks?" Ginny asked curiously.

"Tonks!" Harry exclaimed, realizing that Remus and Tonks were downstairs and probably discussing the entire ordeal. He certainly didn't want Remus being mad at her! It was his fault, anyway. He pushed past his friends and ran downstairs, their footsteps audible behind him. Quickly, he advanced toward the kitchen doorway and found Remus and his wife seated in the kitchen table. Remus was looking at Tonks sternly, and she was biting a nail nervously. She saw Harry walk in and she smiled apologetically, simply stating, "Magical Identification charms. I completely forgot about them."

Remus turned around and looked at Harry gravely, but before he could begin reprimanding, Harry blurted, "It was my fault!"

The werewolf looked confused, but recovered nonetheless. "Harry, that's all nice and well, but Tonks really should have--"

"No, I talked her into it. I really needed to talk to Snape, you see, and..." he sighed. "I'm sorry."

Remus continued staring at Harry until he finally relented and sighed. "It's alright, Harry. However," he continued, looking back to Tonks and then back at Harry, "you shouldn't have done something so rash."

"Exactly!" Hermione interjected. She moved past Harry and sat on a kitchen chair, plopping her copy of the newspaper down. Harry hadn't noticed she was carrying it. "Harry, I thought we were over this! You can't be seeking revenge, it's unhealthy!"

"I wasn't seeking revenge!"

"It's not what it sounds like in the papers," Ginny stated behind him. Harry turned to look at her. "Not that I'm siding with Hermione. I'm actually rather proud that my boyfriend had the guts to tell off that git." She grinned and turned to her brother. "Ron wouldn't have done it."

"Hey, now! I was being serious about visiting Snape! In fact, I--"

"Wait," Harry interrupted before a sibling argument could begin. "What makes you think I told Snape off?"

"Well, the paper, of course," Ron answered, glancing at Hermione's copy of _The Daily Prophet_. Another copy was in Remus' hands as well, and it was difficult to ignore the large headline on the front page: POTTER VISITS AZKABAN.

At once, Harry felt anger churning in the pit of his stomach. "Hand me that," he stated gruffly. Hermione quickly grabbed her copy of the paper off the table and gave it to Harry. He unfolded it to reveal a decent-sized picture of himself and began to read.

**POTTER VISITS AZKABAN**

Harry Potter, hero of the wizarding world, paid a surprising visit to Azkaban, officials report. Though unexpected, Potter's intentions quickly became clear as shouts echoed inside the prison halls.

Auror Jenkins was on duty at the time of Potter's visit. "I ran as fast as I could to see what the fuss was about," Jenkins recalled. "Then, I turned a corner and there he was. He looked so angry, I just couldn't say anything, not when he was rightly giving... _him_ what he deserves."

The man subject to Potter's vitriolic reprimands was none other than Severus Snape. Snape, a Death-Eater and loyal sycophant to the now defeated Dark Lord, had been captured Sunday night and thrown into Azkaban without a trial.

"Harry was saying all sorts of stuff," Jenkins stated. "How he's scum, and how he'll never see the light of day. Harry even promised him a Dementor's Kiss, so I wouldn't be shocked to see him ask for this in the near future."

Potter, over a week ago, managed to defea--

Harry crumpled the paper, absolutely refusing to finish reading the article. Lies. All lies, and they knew it. Who would write this? Why would they print something so untrue? The knot in his stomach grew suddenly: Why wasn't Snape getting a trial?

He shook his head slowly as he attempted to sort the ordeal out in his head. The Ministry cannot refuse the man his trial. "No..." he whispered.

"Harry, are you oka--"

"NO!" Harry yelled. His head was so clouded with anger he couldn't tell whose voice had just spoken. He needed to fix this unjust punishment, and he needed to fix it now. Finally regaining control of his feet, Harry shoved past his friends and out of the kitchen, quickly ascending the stairs and running into the drawing room.

"Harry!" He recognized the voice that time; It was Hermione's. But Harry already had a fistful of Floo powder in his hands. He walked over to the fireplace before anyone could register what he was doing, and said in a clear voice, "Ministry of Magic!"

**

Harry somewhat toppled into the atrium of the Ministry, barely managing to retain his balance. He walked forward, in between gawking wizards and continued into the main hall. However, before he could reach the fountain, a hand grabbed his shoulder firmly and spun him around.

"Harry, what's the matter?" Remus asked. The others were just behind him.

"Look, I didn't go to Azkaban for those reasons that article said," Harry replied. "Snape is..." He shifted his eyes and noticed many eyes on him. "Look, just trust me."

Remus eyed Harry very carefully until he finally released him. Hermione looked at him with an alarming stare, but she didn't say anything. Harry turned back around and continued marching towards the fountain, many people still staring and whispering in awe.

As he approached the fountain, he hesitated, taking in everything around him. His last visit to the headquarters was only a week ago, right after Voldemort's demise, and yet the Ministry looked drastically different. The large statue of Voldemort was taken down since then, and was already replaced with a brand new statue of a wizard. However, the other statues that used to surround the main one were still being constructed. Two large banners hung from the ceiling. One was a picture of a man, and the other was a woman. Harry had no time to register their faces, however, as the Daily Prophet vendors' cries caught his attention, and reminded him of why he was there.

He ventured forward and found the large reception desk that allowed permission to the courtrooms. Next to the desk was the elevator he had ridden once before, during his fifth year. The doors were open, so he advanced, but was stopped by a rather shrill clearing of a throat. Harry turned and looked at the rather tiny-looking man behind the desk.

"Excuse me," the man said, his squeaky voice shaking. He readjusted his hat and continued. "I need you all to eh, check in your wands with me."

Harry resisted the urge to grit his teeth. This would take forever! "Look, we don't have time for this. I need to speak to the Wizengamot."

The small man shook his head, readjusting his hat once more. It seemed to be three sizes too big for him. "I, I'm sorry, Mr. Potter, _Sir_ Potter, but the Wizengamot is in a very, very, important session and cannot, _will not_, be disturbed."

Harry stared at the man, who stared back at Harry. There was no movement, but suddenly, Harry darted for the open elevator. The man shrieked and attempted to scramble over the desk in an effort to apprehend the boy, but Tonks and Remus blocked the man's view and path. They turned to Harry, both looking confused as to what exactly he was doing. Hermione, Ron, and Ginny glanced nervously at each other before turning back to their friend.

"You'll tell us what's going on later?" Ron asked.

The door was closing and Harry nodded before Ron's face disappeared.

The impulsive decision to confront the Wizengamot was brazen and a bit foolish, but the anger he had felt upon reading the deceiving article in _The Daily Prophet_ was too much for him to bear. He should have gone to the headquarters of the newspaper, but they had to have gotten their information somewhere... And the fact that Snape, a war hero, was going to spend the rest of his life in prison was unsettling to him.

The guilt would have begun to creep along his spine, but the elevator ride abruptly stopped. "Level 10, Courtrooms," the monotone voice announced. The doors slid open and Harry ran through the dark stone corridors. They vaguely reminded him of Azkaban, he mused.

At the end of the long corridor were two large wooden doors. He stopped to catch his breath and prepared himself. Yes, this plan was too impulsive and stupid, but he was this far now, so he might as well carry it out. He sighed, collected himself, and then pushed through the doors.

The bright lights of the courtroom blinded Harry for a moment, but he managed to march forward to the center. His adrenaline giving one final kick, Harry cleared his throat and said, "Severus Snape needs a hearing!"

For a long moment, Harry thought that the Wizengamot had gone out for a recess, as there was no noise or response. Then, his eyes adjusted to the lighting and the room and all the plum-robed wizards and witches came into focus. Some were staring in disbelief, while others looked perplexed as to why he was there.

Harry gulped.

An older man sitting in the center stood from his high chair, eyes fixed on Harry. "Mr. Harry Potter," he announced in a deep baritone voice. "It is an honor to finally meet you." The man looked to his left and right and continued. "We all greatly appreciate your services to the war."

Murmurs broke through and then all the Wizengamot members bowed their heads in reverence. Harry felt slightly uncomfortable.

"I also must mention, Mr. Potter, that I have a hunch as to why you are here today in front of us."

Harry's eyes widened slightly. "You do?"

"Oh, yes," the man said, taking his seat again, "I'm positive everyone read the front page article in The Daily Prophet today." He smiled, showing his straight, white teeth. "I'm afraid, however, that The Dementor's Kiss is out of the question, you see. We all decided that such an... instant death would be too merciful for a traitor like Severus Snape."

"That's just it, uh..."

"Lantz," the man responded, smiling. "Isidore Lantz."

"Right," Harry continued, gulping. He really didn't think this through. "Mr. Lantz, sir, uh... I can prove to the Wizengamot that Severus Snape is, well... innocent."

A collective gasp echoed in the room, quickly followed by hushed murmurs. Harry deeply regretted this.

"Mr. Potter," Lantz began again with a small sigh. "I do believe we're speaking of the same Severus Snape? The murderer of Albus Dumbledore? Surely, you cannot be serious," he finished with a condescending chuckle. Several laughed with him.

He grit his teeth in frustration. "Sir, if you'll just let me..."

"I'm sorry, but there is no say in the matter. If you can escort your way out, it'd be much appreciated." The tall man took his seat and began shuffling through several papers in front of him.

"Sir! I have reaso--"

"Next topic on the agenda, Mrs. Applewhite has proposed we negoti--"

"Dumbledore planned his death!!"

Harry saw Lantz' head shoot up instantly. All eyes were on him again, causing Harry to gulp loudly once more.

Maybe blurting it out wasn't a very good idea either.

"Mr. Potter," Lantz softly said after a moment, blue eyes cold and stern. "As I mentioned, the wizarding world is in your debt, and when the opportunity arises, rest assured that I will do everything in my power to erase that debt. However, the wizarding world's most hated man cannot be permitted a hearing, or a trial, for any reason."

"But sir--"

"Guards," Lantz exclaimed, doing a swift motion with his hand as he looked down at his papers once more. The two guards then grabbed Harry by the arms and were about to drag him from the center when someone stood from their high chair.

"Isidore," the woman said coldly, "I'm afraid I must agree with Harry."

Both men looked at the woman and instantly released Harry. He rubbed his arms and brought his attention back to what was happening.

Lantz had stood up and was glaring at the woman, who was smirking rather smugly. "Serena..."

"If the _savior of the wizarding world_ believes that he has evidence supporting Severus Snape's innocence, then _Harry Potter_ should be able to acquire a hearing for the man."

Harry took notice of the woman's exaggerated emphasis on his name. He suddenly felt uneasy. She wasn't mocking him, he was certain, and she wasn't patronizing him, but... something was off.

"And of course, _I _will fully support _Harry Potter_ in any of his... endeavors," the woman finished, turning her gaze at Harry. They locked eyes and she smiled, a large joker's grin displayed on her face.

"We cannot let that man go free!"

"It's absolutely preposterous!"

Outbursts rang throughout the courtroom. Members of the Wizengamot rose from their benches, arguing with one another and pointing fingers. Harry turned to the woman who started it all. She was smirking at Isidore with her arms crossed in front of her. The man glared, and Harry couldn't help but think there was something suspicious about the whole ordeal...

"A trial, then," Lantz loudly announced after a few more seconds. The yelling stopped instantly as everyone turned to look at the man.

Even Harry was quite surprised.

"Isidore," a woman began, "You can't possibly mean that you are going to allow a Death-Eater to possibly receive a chance to..."

"It is as Serena mentioned," he interrupted. He looked at her, a triumphant smirk on her face. "He does deserve the right to a trial, and if... _Harry Potter_ wants to support him, then... There's not much I can do."

Silence befell the room. Serena, who was now the only one standing apart from Isidore merely cleared her throat and sat back down. She winked at Harry and turned her attention elsewhere.

Lantz turned to Harry quickly. "I apologize for my reluctance, Mr. Potter. It was not my intention to... Well, I'll send a letter to your residence when we've scheduled the date for the hearing."

Harry nodded. "And, may I also have, uh... access to Severus Snape's cell?"

Lantz had a curious look on his face, as well as a few other people, but he regained his composure. "Of course -- With an escort obviously for, ah, security purposes."

The boy nodded again. "Right, then. Thanks, uh... Mr. Lantz." His gaze fell on Serena. "And thank you, Serena."

Her eyes lit up and the joker's grin appeared on her face once more. "My pleasure, Harry."

He looked at Isidore once more before leaving the courtroom. He had heard several complaints beginning as he turned his back on the Wizengamot.

Quite frankly, he didn't care.


End file.
